23
"Lock the house up," Christopher said with terror in his voice. "And everybody else should lock themselves in their rooms."
"Fuck that," James snapped. "I'm out of here."
He then turned to Stripy Steve and asked, "Are you coming?"
Steve shook his head. He looked terrified. He was going nowhere. "Let's not be rash."
Jack held out his hand to calm the situation, and cleared his throat before starting his next sentence. "We're probably in the safest place. If you drive back home, you're going to be heading towards a populated area."
Joan added, "More people means more of those...Hitchers, I think the news called them."
"Good point." Christopher nodded in James' direction. "The best thing for us all to do is block the doors and windows, and I'll get my shotgun from the bedroom. Then we can grab some food and water and hide in the basement."
"Well that just sounds fantastic," James derided. "And as for blocking the doors and windows—didn't you see those things on the TV? They were head-butting their way through thick glass to get at someone. Not to mention the bloody spiders. What are we supposed to do? Stand there with cans of bloody bug spray?"
"I like him" Owen said to nobody in particular.
"He does have a point," Ianto intervened, and looked at Stripy Steve, Joan and the Hortons. "I've seen it for myself."
Angela sighed, and trying to stick up for her husband she said, "Well we shouldn't make it easy for them at least."
"Look," this time Stripy Steve was having a turn to talk. "It's not set in stone that these things are going to come here anyway. If we keep the lights off, make sure we're not seen, and not make a noise, I don't see why they'd come here."
His six foot frame remained standing and he scratched at his short grey hair, waiting for a response.
"According to the news," Joan began, "they still have human senses, they're just...I don't know, possessed in some way."
"Infested," Ianto corrected.
Christopher added, "So if they have human traits—"
"They are human," Ianto snapped. "They're just infested. I'm not saying they can drive a car or read a fucking newspaper, but they can run, they can climb... they can bite. I don't even know why they're attacking others. They don't have enough time to devour another person. You heard the news. As soon as the infestation kicks in after thirty seconds or so, they back away."
"But they do eat us," Joan said. "Just not much."
"I suppose it's like a greedy kid at a party," Owen began to speak. "A kid takes one bite of a cake, then moves on to the next."
Ianto laughed, "That's probably the worst analogy I've ever heard."
"Fuck you."
"We're wasting time squabbling amongst ourselves." Joan ran her fingers through her shoulder-length, brown hair. "Let's do what Christopher suggested, and hide the fuck in the basement."
Ianto liked Joan.
She was okay-looking—he was hardly an oil painting himself, he knew that, but she did seem to cuss a lot. He had found out that she worked in a shop and he was certain that wasn't the way she spoke to her customers. Ianto didn't know if that was the way she was or the situation itself was making her swear, as they were all on edge.
"Agreed" Jack said as he finished a whispered conversation with Gwen and Tosh, "We need to secure this place and settle in. Settle down and stop sniping at each other. We might be here for a while."
Christopher showed Ianto and Stripy Steve where the spare bedding was.
They grabbed cushions, quilts, and blankets and brought them down to the basement, whilst the rest were gathering food and liquid.
Christopher opened the door that was situated in the kitchen, and the two men went down to the area where it was the size of an average bedroom; a few crates of booze were present and the floor was carpeted.
Ianto was surprised how warm it was in there; he always imagined basements to be dark, cold, and damp places, only fit for rats. It was lit up by a solitary sixty watt bulb, and it could be bolted and locked from the inside.
As the people started going into the basement, Ianto stepped out and could see Christopher standing in the living room, tears fell from his eyes. Ianto walked back over to the owner and stood to the side of him. Both men looked out of the living room window, into the evening. It was now pitch black outside, but at least the rain had died.
"I think we better close the curtains," suggested Ianto.
Christopher nodded his head in agreement and sighed, "Please tell me this isn't happening."
Ianto placed a comforting hand on Christopher's shoulder. "I'm afraid I can't do that."
"Come on, you daft fucks!" yelled Joan from the kitchen. "What are you two standing around for?"
Both Christopher and Ianto looked at one another and shook their heads.
"She's got a mouth like a sewer, that one," laughed Christopher.
Ianto went over to the window and shut the curtains.
"I'll be just a sec," Christopher informed Ianto. "I'll need a pee if we're going to stay in the basement all night."
Ianto nodded and went into the underground room.
Two minutes later, Christopher came downstairs, holding his shotgun.
Jack was still standing back, letting Christopher be in command and Ianto couldn't help wondering if it was out of respect for the homeowner, or because he knew it was all futile anyway.
Ianto hadn't asked, didn't want to know.
But he did wonder.
Where was Jack's precious bloody Doctor?